


Did You Mean to Tie Me Up So Tight? (Did You Mean to Say It Was All Alright?)

by crispyjenkins



Series: InconsolaBoLu [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Boba is Sad and Luke is Sunshine, M/M, Mentions of Clone Troopers, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Prompt Fill, Soft Competence Kink, Trans Luke Skywalker, and also trans, bounty hunting together as a form of flirting, but everyone's legal and nothing's sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispyjenkins/pseuds/crispyjenkins
Summary: When Boba ducks back out of Jabba’s palace, Luke is leaning against the landspeeder and smiling like the rainy season came early.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Luke Skywalker
Series: InconsolaBoLu [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838716
Comments: 19
Kudos: 288





	Did You Mean to Tie Me Up So Tight? (Did You Mean to Say It Was All Alright?)

**Author's Note:**

> how did they meet, i hear you ask? feck if i know, i'm saving the meet-cute from my bolu ramblings last week for a future fill so. have some soft competence kink in a collection of somewhat linear scenes.
> 
> **Mando'a:**  
>  _buy'ce_ — "helmet"

His fingers lightly skirting around Boba's eyes, Luke laughs behind closed lips and only smiles wider when Boba glares up at him. 

"What's so funny?" he grumbles, as if his heart wasn't sinking faster than a Hutt in quicksand. Whatever this is between them —friendship, mutual affection, _romance—_ it's hardly two Tatooine years old, and still so uncertain; Boba would have honestly put this off even longer if Luke hadn't scooted the last few inches down the table he's perched on and slid his hands under the edges of his _buy'ce._ Maybe he’d even have avoided it indefinitely, if Boba hadn't sat back and let this farmboy from the middle of nowhere remove what he rarely let even his whores remove. 

When Luke sets his helmet on the table next to him and moves even closer, until Boba is gently caged by his knees, Boba lets him. The repair bay lamps whine as whatever insects that can survive out here beat themselves against the light, Tatoo I dipping below the horizon behind them with Tatoo II not far behind. He should really be getting Luke home. 

"You're still so young," Luke mumbles, still with that bright, carefree smile as the rough pads of his fingers brush over the scars on his cheeks. 

Which really isn't what Boba had expected, not when Luke is barely pushing twenty standard and Boba hasn't felt young since Geonosis. So he quirks an eyebrow and lets Luke chuckle when it jumps under his touch. 

"What makes you say that?" he murmurs.

"We've had others come through before," Luke says, finally leaning back enough that he can look down at Boba on the stool in front of him. "They're all old men now."

The others. Those that Boba will not call brothers when he had been given everything they hadn't. 

Which of course doesn't explain how Luke even knows Boba is related to the dwindling number of clone troopers, when he would have been far too young to remember the clones at a time where they resembled Boba.

"You feel similar," Luke offers quietly. "Not the same, you're all unique, but you feel... like a family." Heart now somewhere in his throat, Boba can only stare at him as Luke dips back forward and brushes a thumb up the bridge of his nose to his forehead, before settling his palm at Boba's temple. "Also, you all have the exact same nose."

Boba doesn't remember the last time he laughed, not sincerely, but he swears he'll laugh himself into the grave if it keeps that startled happiness in Luke's eyes. 

“I don’t think Uncle Owen would appreciate me getting blood all over the front of his speeder,” Luke jokes as Boba heaves his current bounty onto the hood of, indeed, his uncle’s landspeeder, even though Boba knows Luke’s replaced and repaired so many parts it should honestly be his. 

So Boba snorts and lashes down the Gen’dai arms dealer with just enough rope to keep them from sliding off. “What does he think you’re doing with it when you’re out here helping me?” 

Luke laughs that sunshine laugh, barely waiting for Boba to swing into the passenger seat before rocketing off down the road, trying to put as much distance between them and the rest of the Gen’dai’s gang as possible. “I find it easier not to say anything and just let him make his own assumptions,” he says, taking a sharp turn around a cantina and nearly, but not quite, hitting a drunk Twi’lek. Frowning, Luke yanks the controls again, and Boba has to grip the side of the speeder so he doesn’t get tossed out the back. “Actually, now that I think about it, he probably thinks I’m going to one of the brothels.”

Which is a rather unfortunate thought, not that Boba has any sort of claim on the boy, but then he remembers Luke isn’t particularly interested in romps in the sheets. “And that you come home with more money than you set out with?” Boba asks before his mouth catches up with his brain.

Tossing Boba a toothy grin, Luke blindly hikes up the speed and launches them out of Anchorhead into the desert. 

When Boba ducks back out of Jabba’s palace, Luke is leaning against the landspeeder and smiling like the rainy season came early, which really isn’t fair to Boba’s poor heart, not when he already feels like he’s being cooked alive in the Tatooine heat. 

“Here’s your cut, kid,” he says instead of anything more sentimental, tossing the pouch of wupiupi at Luke and feeling indorinantly pleased when he fumbles in catching it: the kid may be a genius behind scrap piece of machinery he can get his hands on, but his human reflexes could use a little work.

“Aw, and I thought you kept me around for my company,” he teases, tucking the pouch away like he hadn’t just almost dropped it. “It certainly isn’t for my charming smile.”

Cheeky little shit. 

Boba smirks inside his helmet, and gently tilts Luke’s chin up just long enough to watch the bravado melt into fluster, before hopping back up into the speeder and waiting for Luke to drive them back to Mos Eisley.

It’s only after Luke has passed out on one of Boba’s arms that he realises he hasn’t let anyone on the Slave I that wasn’t an unconscious bounty since Geonosis, much less let anyone into his _cabin._

And yet, Luke is just small enough to fit on the bunk beside him, even as sprawled out as the boy manages to be. Boba hadn’t even thought to tell him no when he’d weaseled his way on board for the first time (or the next, or the next, or the _next–)_ not when it’s felt like Luke has already occupied a place in his home for months. By the Maker, he had already let Luke get elbow deep in the Slave I’s plasma couplings, is it really that much of a leap to let him inside properly?

Boba is drifting before he realises it, the quiet hum of the cooling system a familiar background noise to the unfamiliar weight on his bicep, the weight of Luke’s arm thrown haphazardly over his torso. It’s still the middle of the day, Luke probably has chores to get to and Boba really should restock his blaster case, but kriff him, he’s too kriffing comfortable.

Emboldened by the knowledge that Luke is well and truly asleep, Boba curls the arm Luke is using as a pillow to finally _(finally)_ tuck his fingers into the sun-bleached hair at the back of his head, where the strands endearingly flip up despite Luke’s best efforts. It’s sand-course and thinner than he’d expected, but it really does feel as if Luke has just sucked up all the sunshine Tatooine has to offer –which is, admittedly, a lot– and let it make its home in him.

When Luke snorts rather unattractively in his sleep, Boba still smiles, and pretends it’s only to hide his laugh.


End file.
